


Blazey

by EsperHeart



Category: Onward (2020)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:54:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25272751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EsperHeart/pseuds/EsperHeart
Summary: Anyone who looked at the playful, serpentine dragon could tell she was happy. She had everything a pet could need, more energy than she knew what to do with, and a family to care for her. But Ian Lightfoot knew that this wasn't always the case.There was once a time when she had nothing. No home to call her own. No bed to keep warm in. No toys to play with.No one to love her.How could he possibly turn her away that day...?
Relationships: Barley Lightfoot & Blazey, Barley Lightfoot & Ian Lightfoot, Barley Lightfoot & Laurel Lightfoot, Ian Lightfoot & Blazey, Ian Lightfoot & Laurel Lightfoot
Comments: 10
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, I finally did it. After watching from the sidelines and metaphorically lurking in the shadows, I finally decided to tell a few tales of my own. I don't really expect any of my stories to be treasures or anything, but I do hope someone finds at least a little enjoyment in them. So without further ado, here you are.

January...what a _horrible_ month. 

Ian Lightfoot had just left his Social Studies class--his last class of the day, and without question one of his least favorite ones--walking out through the doors and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket as the freezing wind immediately hit his face. The cold slid over his head and the back of his neck in seconds, so he spared a moment to pull one of his hands back out and put his hood up. He grumbled as he adjusted it so that his pointed ears weren't too much of an obstruction. Once that was done, he thrust his hand back into its pocket and hunched his shoulders. He shivered as another gust of wind hit him, and he tried to turn his face away from the worst of it, balling his hands into fists in the hopes that that would warm his fingers back up. 

Ian had never liked winter, but he thought that maybe he could've tolerated it more if there had been snow--at least you could make something fun out of snow, or (if you were like him) you could sit inside with a mug of hot cholate and just stare out the window, admiring how beautiful it looked. But alas, so far it hadn't been cold enough for snow this year--or perhaps, not consistently enough. For the most part they'd instead had to deal with days of bleak, dreary gray clouds, although they also had moments of either rain or ice. Nowhere near as much fun and a whole lot more boring, as Ian's brother Barley never failed to remind him. 

_I wonder if it's possible to start a petition to get January cancelled,_ Ian thought to himself. _Nothing fun ever happens in January._ His musings were interrupted when he heard a shout behind him.

Ian turned around just in time to see three other students--a satyr, a goblin and another elf--running his way and laughing. He hastily stepped out of their way, but wasn't quick enough to avoid the icy water that splashed onto his shoes and the bottoms of his jeans from where the elf kid had rushed straight through a large puddle.

"Hey!" Ian cried indignantly, but the other kids ran on, none of them even seeming to notice him. He groaned as he felt the water seeping through the fabric of his shoes, his feet now chilled and wet. _I hope I don't come down with something,_ he thought miserably. He decided he couldn't start a petition after all--that would require talking to people in order to get names, something Ian had no wish to do. Feeling the overwhelming desire to be home, get some warm and dry socks on and just enjoy his weekend, Ian continued on to where the school buses were.

As he walked he spotted a few groups of kids walking together and chatting, and he sighed. Barley had made a big deal about how exciting starting middle school would be, but so far fifth grade had been nothing special. It was just more of what Ian remembered from elementary school: quizzes no one wanted to take, the threat of having your parents called if you did something wrong hanging over your head, and other kids who decided you weren't worth their time. 

Maybe things would change for real once he made it to high school. 

Ian had just spotted the school buses, wincing at the squishing sounds his soggy shoes were making and trying not to focus on how cold his feet were, when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Frowning, he turned his head. At first all he saw was the same group of bushes clumped together at the wall of the building that he always saw when he came this way. Just as he was about to walk away, though, he saw it: a flash of light green, too warm and bright to belong to the plant life that had withered over the past couple of months. Curiosity piqued, Ian began to walk in that direction, pausing just long enough to glance at the buses and ensure that they weren't leaving yet.

Once he reached the bushes, Ian slowed. His brown eyes darted around, trying to find that light green. The eleven-year-old didn't see anything...but he _did_ hear a twig snap, followed by a whimper. Ian glanced down and saw the bottom of one of the bushes rustling. Swallowing, he got down on his hands and knees and peered under the bush. 

The first thing he registered were the sharp teeth and _huge_ yellow eyes, and Ian's mouth fell open. He could feel a scream rising in his throat--until the creature whimpered again. His jaw clicked shut. Monsters didn't make sounds like _that._ Right? The creature then made a high-pitched whining sound, seemingly to confirm his instincts. Feeling a little braver, Ian grasped some of the lower branches and pushed them aside to get a better look at what lay beneath. He gasped.

Long, thin body, stumpy horns, brittle-looking wings, green scales...it was a dragon. It shook itself, its tail smacking against the bark, and it looked up at him. The creature was small, only just big enough to fit into Ian's arms. Ian lingered on this detail, then looked into its golden eyes. He realized that this thing was a baby. A shy smile crept onto his face. 

"Um...hi..." he said. She--Ian had gotten a good enough look to tell now, it was female--tilted her head, ears perking curiously. Ian stretched his fingers toward her, his movements slow and cautious. She considered him for a moment, the look in her eyes uncertain. "It's okay," Ian said, his voice quiet yet encouraging. "I won't hurt you. I promise." 

That seemed to be good enough for her. She stretched her neck out towards his hand, sniffing his fingertips. In a few seconds, she had crept close enough for him to pat her head. 

"That's right..." Ian said with a smile. "That feels good, huh? You're a good girl, aren't you?" Then he frowned. Ian looked around, trying to see someone who looked like they searching for their lost pet. He saw no one. His gaze returned to the hatchling, who had stepped even closer to him, her head resting in his lap. "Where did you come from? What are you doing here?" 

Ian took a closer look at the young dragon, beginning to notice a few more details about her. For starters, there were a few scratches on her side beneath her left wing that looked fairly recent. Dried blood crusted along the sides, which meant that they'd never been cleaned. Had they even been looked at? There was something else, too...she seemed friendly enough to approach him, but she flinched whenever Ian made any quick movements. Aside from a tank of fish, the Lightfoots had never owned pets, but Ian had played with them at his relatives' houses, so he was relatively certain that that wasn't normal.

The most concerning thing, though--and the one that raised the biggest red flag in his mind--was the fact that she was shivering. Badly, in fact.

Ian wasn't an expert on animals by any means, but he _did_ know that all dragons, from the newly-born to the ancient, possessed a resistance to cold. In fact, he had heard many pet owners mention how much they loved to cuddle with their pet dragons in colder weather because it was like holding a miniature heater. Barley had once summarized them as having a physical heart's fire--whatever the heck _that_ meant. The keyword, however, was _resistance._ Not immunity. For this dragon to be shivering as much as she was...how long had she been out here?

Ian's voice wobbled a little as he asked her one more question. "Are you lost...?"

Engines started up behind him. Ian gasped as head shot up and twisted to look behind him. He gulped--he hadn't noticed that there was no longer anyone in the lot besides him. The buses were about to leave!

"Oh no no _no no no_!" Ian exclaimed, his mind flooding with mental images of being left behind to suffer a long, dull weekend at New Mushroomton Middle School--otherwise known as the bane of his existence--without even the comfort of the library, which was always kept locked when the librarian wasn't present. All he'd have for company would be the school janitor--wait, not even the janitor! Everyone knew that he spent his weekends riding around town on a motorcycle! 

Maybe later Ian would lament that even janitors had more of a life than him, but he had to move _now!_

Ian was about to leap up and make a run for it...when he remembered the baby dragon in his arms. She was looking at him in total alarm, a questioning whine sounding from her throat. For a moment, indecisiveness made him freeze. Then, panic set in, and Ian tore his constellation-themed backpack from his shoulders and opened the biggest pocket. He whistled and gestured to it. "Come on, girl!" 

He hoped that she'd get the picture right away and hop right in, but instead, she was looking at him as though he'd lost his mind. Then a new sound registered in his ears: he looked to see the first bus pulling out of the parking lot. A distressed whimper escaped him and without thinking, he scooped the little dragon up and dumped her into his backpack, zipping it back shut but leaving just enough of a hole that she could still breathe. Then he bolted to his feet, backpack pressed to his front, and he and ran as though he'd drank a carton of rocket fuel just as the second bus started to drive away. His bus was the fourth one down; if he was fast enough, he could make it. 

As the third bus began to move he felt his backpack squirming and felt a pang of guilt. What was he doing? What if she belonged to somebody nearby and he was stealing her? He should let her back out right now. Even as the thought entered his mind, though, Ian knew that no one really lived in this part of town; it was used mainly for businesses such as small restaurants like Burger Shire. And the schools, of course. 

But what about his mother? Barley had already asked her several times before--the last time being a month ago, actually--if they could have a pet that wasn't fish. Ian himself had asked her a few times. Her answer was always the same: "No, not yet. Maybe someday, though, when you two are a little bigger." That answer had been easier to accept when they were younger, albeit grudgingly, but when Barley had asked that last time he'd pointed out to her that he was fourteen years old now--how much bigger did he need to be?! The point was, Ian wasn't sure she'd let the dragon stay, even for a while.

But he remembered the look of yearning in the baby's eyes as she sat with him...how could he leave her alone? 

All thought vanished from his mind as he saw the door of his bus slide shut, which meant that it was going to peel out any second. "WAIT!" he screamed. He slammed into the door and started pounding on it with his fist. "LEMMEINLEMMEINLEMMEINLEMMEIN!" he chanted at the top of his lungs, terrified that if he didn't get his point about wanting to go home across he'd be stuck at the school for eternity (well, until Monday came back around, but really, what was the difference?). Judging by the bus driver's exasperated expression as the door mercifully slid back open, Ian succeeded. He hurriedly clambered up the stairs and find just about every other kid on the bus pointing at him and laughing. Face burning, Ian kept his eyes trained on the floor as he made his way to the emptiest seat he could find. He sat down just as the bus pulled onto the street. 

Ian shut his eyes for a moment, willing his pulse to stop racing. Then he remembered the bundle in his arms. He looked around to see if anyone was watching him; thankfully, though, they had gotten bored of his spectacle and had moved onto their own topics. For once, Ian was grateful to be a ghost among his peers. He pulled the zipper of his bag a little and peeked inside. The dragon stared back at him, eyes wide with confusion. 

"I'm sorry, girl," he whispered to her. He pushed his hand inside, half-afraid she might bite him out of vengeance for his rough handling of her. He felt her sniff his hand and he tensed, but she did nothing more than nuzzle his hand. He sighed and said quietly, "I'll make it up to you when we get to my house. I promise I will."

Even as he said this, though...he tried not to think about how much trouble he could get into if he got caught. Ian's brows furrowed, and he pushed the thought out of his head. She was just a little baby dragon, and he only needed to hide her for a little while--just long enough to find her owner. He smiled to himself.

How hard could that be?


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I looked over my first chapter again, and I'm not too sure how that one turned out. I don't know if the quality was affected because I've gotten that rusty on writing or if it's because I was running on fumes after a long work shift that day. Whatever the case, I'm going to try to limit any writing I do to my days off, when I'll hopefully be a bit more focused.

Ian's confidence had deteriorated considerably by the time the bus dropped him off in front of his house.

As he heard the bus drive away, Ian stared at the front door from the sidewalk, but made no immediate move to enter. His house, normally so warm and inviting, now felt a bit ominous, and more than a little apprehensive. This feeling was only strengthened by the backpack in his arms, its occupant now beginning to squirm restlessly. Ian slid his hand inside to scratch behind the dragon's ears and swallowed nervously. It was truly remarkable how much doing something you knew you weren't supposed to do could alter your perception on the things you looked at everyday. 

Gathering what little courage he possessed (which he could admit wouldn't even fill a gnome's teacup), Ian made his way up the steps onto the porch. He paused, then looked down into his backpack. The baby stared back at him expectantly. Ian took a deep breath and exhaled, a small cloud appearing his front of his face as he did so.

"Okay, I need you to listen to me," he said quietly. His eyes darted up to the door, and then the windows, making sure his mother wasn't looking out at him. Seeing no one, he continued. "When we get inside...I need you to be quiet. Really, _really_ quiet. Like...like me in school, so that teachers won't call on me to answer their questions!" 

She blinked a few times, then let out a loud yawn. Then she started scratching her ear with her front paw, no longer even looking at him. Ian groaned in dismay; he was perfectly fine with _teachers_ not acknowledging his words--considering how often his anxiety caused him to stumble on them--but this dragon needed to understand the importance of what he was saying to her. As far as intelligence went, the tales Ian heard of pet dragons could go either way; some owners bragged about their pets being as smart as their ferocious ancestors. Others lamented that their pets were about as smart as the unicorns that scavenged through the garbage cans. And right now, he wasn't sure which description applied to the young dragon he was currently smuggling. He decided to try another tactic. 

"I mean it, girl!" he said, shaking his bag a little, causing her to look back up at him. "My mom is inside right now--if you want to stay awhile, we can't let her know you're here!" Ian tried to make his voice sound stern and assertive, similar to Barley when he was trying to stress something serious to him. "Don't let her huge glasses trick you--she's got the eyes of a phoenix, and the inner lie detector of--of...a real metal detector!"

Ian felt the urge to smack himself in the face--the only thing that stopped him was that the dragon had stopped moving so much. The tone of his voice seemed to have gotten through to her, but Ian made a mental note to himself that sounding assertive would never count for much if he uttered nonsense like _that._ He was incredibly thankful that he hadn't said that while he was still at school, at least. Unable to think of anything more he could say, Ian zipped his bag shut and opened the door.

Ian let out a huge sigh of contentment as he was finally able to step out of the cold of January and into the warmth of his home. He made his way over to the stairs, grateful that they were right next to the door, when his mother made her way out of the kitchen. She grinned at him.

"Hello, sweetie!" she said, reaching for him as she always did when he came home. Ian hastily settled his backpack on his shoulders before he was enfolded in her arms. In spite of the tension of his situation, Ian couldn't help but return her hug and smile. 

"Hey, Mom."

"How was school today?" she asked him, her brown eyes warm behind her slightly crooked glasses. 

Ian stopped smiling and shrugged. "It was all right." To be honest, he wasn't sure why she always asked him this question; no matter how many ways he phrased it, his answer was basically the same: meh.

Before he could say anything else, though, he felt movement on his back. He froze, hands going to the straps of his backpack and squeezing. Then, he felt a couple of kicks right between his shoulder blades, the first one somewhat gentle...the second much harder. Ian's eyes widened; she wanted _out._

"Well, that's good," his mom said to him, not seeming to notice his growing alarm. 

"Yeah, I, uh...uh..." Ian stammered, feet shuffling in place--feet. _Feet!_ He quickly pointed a finger down at his shoes. 

"My feet got wet before I got on the bus, so I've gotta go get out of them and get something warm okay?" He was already making his way up the stairs at this point. 

His mother's brows furrowed. "How did you do that?" she asked, her tone a mix of concern and curiosity. "You weren't running through any puddles, were you? I don't mind you doing that in the summer, but it's not such a good idea this time of year." 

"Uh, it wasn't me, it was some other--AH!" Ian was interrupted by the feel of needle-like claws poking through his bag into his lower back. He stumbled on the last few steps but caught himself on the banister. 

"Honey, are you okay?" his mom called; she'd clearly heard, and he could practically hear the frown in her voice.

"Uh, yep, perfectly fine!" he hollered back down. By now he could hear the little dragon growling from inside his bag, and he rushed to his room. "Stairs are just trying to kill me, but it's okay--" Ian burst through his doorway.

"--because they try to kill everybody!" He shut the door.

Ian yanked his bag off and walked quickly to his bed, where he promptly spilled the little hitchhiker. She wasted no time in shaking herself all over, then stretching her limbs and wings. She gave him a look that could only be described as indignant, then let out a small bark. Ian's heart jumped into his throat. 

"Shhhhhh!" he hissed at her, "Don't you get it?! The walls have ears, and _so does Mom!"_

The little dragon blinked a few times, giving no indication that she understood anything he was saying. Ian let out a frustrated sigh and sat down on the bed beside her, pulling his damp shoes and socks off, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the sight of his pruned toes. Then he buried his face in his hands. What had he been _thinking?_ Why had he believed that any of this was a good idea? Breaking house rules. Keeping secrets. Smuggling animals--animals that, as history books were so keen to remind everyone, could _breathe fire._ This whole thing was Barley's _modus operandi_ \--not Ian's. At this, Ian's head shot up.

_He's rubbing off on me!_

His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of sniffing. He looked over at the dragon, who had her head up and was sniffing the air. It seemed that curiosity overtook her and she gazed around the bedroom. Ian looked around as well, noting the toy rocket he kept on his windowsill, the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars scattered on the walls and ceiling, his GameSquire still charging on his nightstand. He couldn't help but wonder what it all must seem like from her perspective.

He looked back at her, and noticed that her eyelids were drooping. She laid down and curled into a ball, right there beside him on the bed. Within minutes she was fast asleep. Ian stared at her, struck by how small and vulnerable she looked. He felt his heart swell at the sight, endeared at the sight of her slightly twitching tail, the way green covered one of her eyes but not the other, and the content look on her face. He hesitated, then reached over and settled his hand on the back of her neck, careful to avoid the spines that were still growing there. He felt her stiffen beneath his fingers and he held his breath. After a moment, though, she relaxed and leaned into his touch. He let his breath out and smiled as he started to slowly stroke her back. It wasn't long before she began purring in her sleep, much to Ian's delight. 

She was _so cute._

"Ian!" 

Ian gasped and shot to his feet. This caused the dragon to wake up immediately and let out a startled yelp; before Ian could spin around and shush her, though, she bolted off his bed and ran into his open closet, all in the blink of an eye. 

"Ian!" his mother's voice called again. 

_She knows! She knows the truth and she's gonna kill me! Or make me clean every room in this house--or_ Barley's _room, which will make me wish_ _she just killed me!_

But wait--if she was calling him about the baby dragon...wouldn't she do so up here, where the evidence was and there was no way to deny it? Maybe there was hope for him.

"I'm coming!" he yelled. He turned back to his closet, even though she had hidden herself in the far corner where he couldn't see her. "Stay here and be quiet, okay? I'll be back soon." With that, he left his room and walked back down the stairs. His mom was waiting at the bottom.

"Ian..." Her hands were on her hips and she was gnawing on her lip, her expression contemplative. He saw her frowning, and he could feel himself beginning to sweat. 

"Mom...?" he pressed.

She sighed, then spoke. "Ian...where's your brother?" 

Ian gulped. With everything that had been happening around the animal hidden upstairs...he had forgotten how much he was dreading having to answer this question, even though he had known all day that it was coming. For his mom's part, she looked as though she was already regretting whatever his response was going to be. He pulled his lips up into what he hoped was a smile, but was probably more like a grimace. 

"Well..." he started. His hands began to knead the bottom of his jacket. "Barley said he wanted to see more of the city." Actually, Barley had said he wanted to see the world...but since the world was a little inaccessible to a fourteen-year-old, he'd decided that the city of New Mushroomton was the next best thing. 

"Uh-huh..." his mother said, eyes narrowing suspiciously. 

"But it's too cold to ride a bike, and he doesn't have his bus pass yet." Ian could no longer meet her eyes as he spoke his next words. "...Soooo, Barley decided he'd just...ride a different school bus."

"He WHAT?!" His mother exclaimed. Ian nodded meekly. 

Before the bus had taken them both to school that morning, Barley had told Ian this plan with the importance of one of his rogue characters planning a stealth mission. He had tried to talk Ian into going with him, while _Ian_ had tried to talk _Barley_ into coming home instead. Neither of their attempts had been successful. 

"Did he say which bus he was going to be on?" she asked frantically. Ian shook his head.

"He said he'd figure it out when school ended." 

She let out an exasperated huff. "Did he say anything to you while you were both at school?"

Ian shook his head again. "Mom, I barely ever see him at school," he reminded her. This was true; for reasons best known to the principal and anyone else who worked in the middle school office, the fifth and sixth graders were kept in a separate building from the seventh and eighth graders. They didn't even share the same playground. This meant that Ian and Barley were never able to cross paths, except for when they took the bus to and from school. However, Ian _did_ have a bit of good news for her.

"Barley said he still had his cell phone in case you had any questions." 

She wasted no time; within seconds she was on the phone with her older son. 

"Barley?" she said in a dangerous voice. "Where _are_ you?" A pause. She sighed and looked at Ian. "He's downtown," she said. She turned away from Ian and started to pace the living room, still talking to Barley. Ian found himself tuning out of their conversation as he kept glancing up the stairs furtively, hoping that his new roommate would continue to keep quiet like he told her to. In all honesty, he was amazed that he hadn't been caught yet. He tuned back in just as she reached the end of the phone call.

"...right, mister, you _stay on that bus,_ you hear me? You don't get off to talk to friends, you don't get off for snacks, you don't get off for _anything._ You stay until the bus driver takes you back to the school, and Ian and I will come pick you up there. Understand?" Another pause. "Good." She hung up, then she looked at Ian. 

"It's going to be a little while before that bus driver finishes his route--an hour, at least. You can go back upstairs, sweetie. I'll call you when it's time to go."

Ian didn't need to be told twice; he hurried up the stairs and into his room. He looked around for the dragon, but didn't see her.

"Hmmm..." he said, wandering over to his closet. He peeked inside, and found her still tucked into the corner, having made herself a bed out of his shoes. He wondered if she'd moved from that spot at all since he'd left. "Hey," he said. Her head shot straight into the air and she let out a low whine. "It's okay," he said reassuringly. "I'm sorry I scared you. You don't have to stay in there if you don't want to." She blinked, then laid her head back down. She clearly had no intention of moving.

Ian understood. He didn't like having to leave his comfort zone either. And he could at least take comfort from the fact that she was no longer shivering.

* * *

About an hour and a half later, the Lightfoots were driving home from the middle school. Ian didn't listen too closely to Barley and their mother's conversation about what happened, but he didn't need to; he already knew what they were saying. She would tell Barley that it wasn't okay just do things like that without thinking. Barley would respond that it shouldn't be that big of a deal, that while it _had_ been spur-of-the-moment, he had taken steps to ensure that she could still reach him. She would point out that until she called, she hadn't known where he was, and that he should have at least asked her ahead of time if he could even do something like that. To which he would say that he wasn't a little kid anymore, that he was growing up and he wanted to get out and do things on his own now. 

Ian had heard them have this debate _so often now._ Being stuck in the car with them while they had it again made him seriously look forward to just going to bed already. Of course he couldn't right away, since there was still supper (griffin patties and fried potatoes, which for Ian was actually a decent meal after such a hectic day) and evening chores (which both boys were always less enthusiastic about), but eventually Ian was finally allowed to make his way back up to his room...only to find Barley blocking his way. 

"Hark!" he greeted. "Dost thou wish to watch a movie with thy big brother???"

Normally Ian wouldn't have minded, but he did have a tiny dragon waiting upstairs. "No thanks," he declined. For a split second Barley looked dejected, but then he grinned.

"How about a game?" he said in his normal voice.

"Nah, I'm good." Ian squeezed his way by his brother and began to walk upstairs.

"Maybe a movie _and_ a video game? We could do both _at the same time!"_

"Thanks, but I'll pass." 

"Perhaps an adventure book?"

"No."

".....Dessert?"

Ian sighed regrettably. He had reached the top, and he turned to look back at Barley. "I appreciate it, but I'm really tired, Barley. Maybe tomorrow, okay?"

Barley looked hurt for a moment, but his expression brightened once again and he nodded. "Aye, tomorrow it is!" And with that, Barley walked out of Ian's sight; he heard his brother's bedroom door open and then close. Taking that as a cue, Ian entered his room. 

He saw that the dragon had left the closet. She was sitting in the center of the room, sniffing the floor and pawing at it. He wondered how long she had been exploring--maybe the whole time he'd been out of here? She had looked up briefly when he shut the bedroom door. Seeing that it was him, though, she merely went back to her activity. It seemed she was getting used to him. He changed into his pajamas, turned his light off, and curled up under his blanket. 

He couldn't help but feel guilty at rejecting Barley's wish to spend time together, but he hadn't been lying--he really _was_ tired. And anxious; Ian hadn't felt truly relaxed all day, and with his little secret cooped up in this room with him, he was beginning to wonder if he ever would. In spite of this, though, he could feel himself starting to drift off to sleep after a while...only to gasp as he felt something jump onto his bed. He looked up, eyes wide, but it was only the dragon. She stared at him for a moment, then made her way over to him cautiously. Then she turned in place a few times, and lowered herself onto the mattress beside him. She soon fell asleep. Ian felt a tired smile appear on his face, and he petted her for a little bit. Tomorrow.

Tomorrow he'd come up with a plan. 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that dragons have basically become Onward's equivalent of dogs, but I can't help but picture them with a few cat-like characteristics as well. Of course, it's never been stated what their version of cats would even be, so there that is.

Maybe coming up with a plan would've been slightly easier if Ian had had a good night's rest. Unfortunately, he had to wake up in the early hours of the morning to clean up the disgusting mess the little dragon had made on his bedroom floor--which, in hindsight, was his own fault for not taking such a thing into account. He made a mental note to take her outside whenever his mother's back was turned. Said mess had nearly made him throw up, and it didn't help that he was really only half-awake at the time, but at the very least he didn't have to worry about waking Barley up--one wouldn't think so to look at his hyperactive personality, but his older brother was quite the heavy sleeper. This made their mom his only real concern as he had to get the things to clean up, then put back when he was done; he didn't _think_ she would notice immediately if anything was out of place, but better safe than sorry. 

Then, when he was done and he could finally settle back down in his bed...he could hear her emerging from the closet, where she'd taken to hiding after he'd woke up the first time. He was then treated to the sound of her claws scraping the wood as she paced around the room. This went on for about half an hour, during which Ian had let out a frustrated sigh and buried his head beneath his pillow in an attempt to block out the sound. Maybe he _would_ take his mother's advice and consider having a rug on his floor. 

_Then,_ just when the pacing finally stopped and quiet had settled back into the room...she'd jumped back on the bed and climbed on top of him. Ian groaned as she turned a couple of times on his stomach before finally laying down and curling up into a ball. Her tail then ended up near his face; the fur that was on the end of it kept tickling his nose and chin. He had to push it away several times before it would finally stay where it was. He thought that would be the end of it, until sometime later she had stretched out and shifted onto her back, which caused her spines to dig into him. It _did_ help that said spines weren't fully grown yet, but they were still rather uncomfortable, so Ian ended up pushing her off onto the mattress next to him. This caused her to let out a protesting whine, to which Ian responded with a grumpy "shush." 

About an hour or so after _that,_ when Ian was _finally_ drifting back off to sleep...he was startled back to consciousness when the dragon started to kick him. _"Seriously?!"_ he moaned, his voice clouded with sleep. He propped himself on his elbows and turned his head to reprimand her...only to find that she wasn't awake. She was growling quietly, her back legs kicking, her front legs and tail twitching. 

Oh...she was dreaming. Okay, in spite of his sleep-deprivation-fueled grouchiness...that was pretty cute. Still, though.

Ian let out a huge yawn and reached over to poke her side. She didn't respond immediately; it seemed that she was on the hunt. Ian then shook her, and this time he succeeded in waking her--her head snapped up and she blinked several times. Ian then dropped his head back on his head and went to sleep.

When morning finally came in earnest, Ian did _not_ want to get out of bed. It turned out, though, that the dragon's earlier antics were only part of the reason for this. She had curled up next to him fast asleep, her spines thankfully facing away from him. Her presence brought to mind a few memories from years ago, when Ian would crawl into either Barley's or his mother's bed whenever he'd suffered a nightmare. Somehow, spending those nights with someone else had brought him a sense of security, one he didn't have when he was alone. He was getting that same feeling right now, but it was also putting him back to sleep, when the sun was up and he really should be getting up and around. 

_I wish somebody told me that pets make it harder to wake up in the morning._ Ian shook his head and mentally corrected himself; she wasn't his pet. Although...Ian forced himself into a sitting position with a tired sigh and looked at her, the movement rousing her in turn. 

He should probably give her a name.

Ian was only eleven years old, but even he knew that giving names to things was a surefire way to get attached emotionally. Even so, though, he couldn't really keep calling her "dragon", could he? It just wasn't practical. He held his chin in his hand as he watched her stretch her body and yawn. "Hmmm..." he said thoughtfully. "You _do_ have that spot of green over your eye...how about I call you Spot?" Ian cringed as he said this, though--even with a green spot on her eye, that was still a stupid name. For her part, the dragon started to scratch her ear, apparently not caring either way. 

"Okay, um...how about...Lime? Because you're green!" He said the word aloud a few times, testing to see how it sounded. He discarded it, though. It just didn't feel right. "Speedy...?" he tried. She _was_ fast, after all. And yet...that didn't feel right, either. Ian frowned. This might be trickier than he thought. 

Ian ended up going through quite a few potential names--Dottie, Bluebell (because he'd noticed that her tongue was blue), Stringbean, Taffy--but none of them seemed to want to stick. He'd never imagined that coming up with a name for an animal could be so difficult. 

"Helloooooo, Sir Iandoooooore!" 

Ian gulped. That voice was always unmistakable. 

"Art thou awake, Sir Iandore of Lightfoot?!"

_Well, if I wasn't before, I definitely would be now, wouldn't I?!_

The dragon's ears perked, and Ian noticed that this time she didn't immediately run. She still looked rather nervous, though, especially as they heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Ian shot to his feet and scooped the little dragon up, then all but tossed her into his closet and shut the door.

"Come hither and embrace the new day!" 

Ian bolted to his bedroom door and yanked it open just as Barley reached it. "Hey, Barley," Ian greeted his brother with an anxious laugh. 

"And a fine hello to you in turn, little brother!" Barley replied enthusiastically. 

_How does he do it?_ Ian wondered. _How can he stay up all night, sleep like he just died and then wake up all the way just like that?_ It hardly seemed fair, especially since his brother made it look so easy. Meanwhile wakefulness was still a slow process for Ian at this point in time, and it must've shown on his face, because a look of concern crossed Barley's face.

"Hey, you doing okay, little bro?" he asked. 

Ian nodded and forced a smile on his face. "Yeah, just tired. Had a rough night, didn't get a lot of sleep." He mentally kicked himself as he said this; the last thing he needed was for Barley to press him for details, because Ian was all too aware of what a terrible liar he was. To his surprise, though, Barley simply grinned and threw an arm around his shoulders.

"Well, you know what would be a really good way to wake up? _Only_ some quality time with your chivalrous big brother as he _obliterates_ the forces of evil from the comfort of our living room!" He ruffled Ian's hair affectionately. 

Ian was about to respond--with what, he wasn't quite sure--but was interrupted by a sound coming from behind him. Ian turned his head, and he felt a pit open in his stomach. The dragon had gotten out and was sniffing at the socks he'd carelessly tossed to the floor yesterday. Apparently he hadn't shut the closet door all the way, and now she was right there in the open! His small consolation was that Barley hadn't noticed her, yet, so Ian hurriedly stepped out from under his brother's hold and put his hand on the door.

"Uh, sorry, Barley, but I-I-I-I--" he stammered. Barley's face had taken on an utterly baffled look, which wasn't helping Ian's pathetic attempts to come up a viable reason for his freakout. He settled on, "I've gotta do my math homework!"

Barley frowned in confusion. "Ian, last night you told Mom you didn't have any work to worry about this weekend."

He had? Oh, shoot--he _had!_ Ian cursed himself: _why_ hadn't he lied about that? He could've used that as an excuse for all the caring he knew he'd have to do for the dragon! 

"Well, I-I-I changed my mind! I mean, uh--" Ian could feel himself get desperate as the confusion in Barley's expression began to morph into suspicion. "I lied--I mean, I didn't lie, I just forgot--!" In his panic, Ian turned to look behind him...just in time to see the dragon _devouring his socks._ Ian squeaked. "Ijustgottastudybecauseschoolsayssookay?!" He slammed the door and spun around, charging at the dragon and grabbing hold of the second sock hanging from her jaws, its sibling long gone.

"Give it here!" he hissed at her, "Bad dragon! Bad dragon, _spit it out!"_ The dragon growled and shook her head fiercely, trying to dislodge Ian's hold on his sock. In the end it didn't matter, as Ian heard his door reopening behind him. Ian closed his eyes briefly, then turned his head to look at Barley, who was gaping at the scene in front of him. In his distraction, the dragon successfully wrestled the sock away from Ian and swallowed it whole. 

"It...it..." Barley stuttered, and if it weren't for the situation, Ian would've been amazed at his brother being speechless for once. Ian swallowed, his hands starting to tremble.

"IT'S A DRAGON!" 

Ian jumped at his brother's excited shout, which also scared the dragon back into ducking under his bed. "Shhhhhh!" Ian said furiously as he once again shut his bedroom door, not even bothering to stop Barley as he made his way to the side of the bed and got on his hands and knees to peer underneath. "Do you _want_ Mom to hear?!"

"She's not gonna hear, she's out on her morning jog," Barley told him. Oh, that was right--now that their mom had declared Barley old enough to look after Ian and the house without supervision (albeit with constant reminders to keep the doors and windows locked and not answer strangers), she had taken to jogging a block or two on Saturday mornings. Ian felt a weight slide off his chest at the reminder. That still left this, though.

Barley had started making cooing noises, reaching his hand under the bed and trying to coax the hatchling out. Ian couldn't see her, but he could hear her whine at the back of her throat. Finally Barley withdrew his hand and sat up. "Where did he come from?" he asked.

"She," Ian corrected. "And I, uh...I found her. At school." Ian began to explain how he'd found her on his way to the school bus. How she'd been hiding and trembling under some bushes, and...

"Oh, no!" Ian slapped a palm to his forehead.

"What?" Barley asked in an alarmed tone.

"She's hurt, that's what!" Right as he said this, the hatchling reemerged from the bed and had carefully made her way over to huddle by Ian's feet. He sat down next to her and pulled her into his lap. "She's scratched right here." He cautiously lifted her wing to expose the injury on her side. Barley made his way over to them and inspected her. "I don't know if she had an accident," Ian continued, "or if she got in a fight, but I don't think it's been looked at." He hated himself for forgetting about this, for possibly leaving her in pain without doing anything about it. 

Barley noticed the look on his face, and his tone was reassuring. "It's okay, it doesn't need to be looked at. See?" Confused, Ian leaned forward to look. Barley spoke, his voice matter-of-fact, "Dragons can heal quicker than other animals. You only really have to take one to a vet if the wound is really serious." Now that Barley mentioned it, the scratches didn't look near as bad as they had yesterday. Most of the blood he could see was old and dried, and the scratches themselves were smaller. He could see some bald spots where the skin was smooth, unmarked and yellow, but where the scales hadn't yet grown back over them. Ian felt relieved and he petted the dragon. 

"So you found her at school, stuck her in your backpack, brought her home, and you've been keeping her up here ever since?" Barley said.

Ian nodded. "Yeah, that pretty much sums it all up."

"And you didn't ask me to help you?!" Barley sounded genuinely offended, and Ian snorted. 

"Maybe you forgot, but _you weren't even on the bus with me."_

"Yeah, well..." Barley trailed off, then recovered. "You still could've let me know after we all got home! Gargamon's Tail, you're gonna be in _huge_ trouble if Mom finds out!" 

"Yeah, I know that!" Ian said, frustrated. "I've always known that, but she looked so sad and alone and...and...I just couldn't leave her there..." To his embarrassment, Ian started to get choked up, and he immediately stopped talking. For a few moments, both boys were quiet. Then Barley spoke again, his voice much softer.

"Can I hold her...?"

In spite of himself Ian smiled, and gently handed the hatchling over. Barley was still growing, so his hands nearly dwarfed the small creature. She eyed him suspiciously for a couple of moments, but after feeling him stroke her back, she settled down and shut her eyes. Barley stared at her for a moment, his hazel eyes glowing with happiness and awe. Then he looked up at his little brother.

"Why didn't you come to me?" he asked. 

Ian sighed and looked down, unable to meet his brother's eyes. "If I get caught...I didn't want you to get in trouble, too..." 

"Pfffft. My little brother is breaking the laws laid down by our queenly mother for the greater good!" Barley said, entirely unconcerned. If anything, he sounded like he was starting to _enjoy_ this. "How could his knightly partner-in-crime _not_ help?" 

Ian looked at his brother incredulously, but he couldn't deny the sincerity on his older brother's face. He found himself gazing at the hatchling contemplatively. He was tired. But more than that, he was beginning to realize how challenging it truly was to have an animal around. Maybe he _should_ accept Barley's help. So he nodded hesitantly. "Okay."

Barley's eyes were shining in excitement. Ian couldn't exactly share his brother's feelings--his sense of dread about the possibility of being caught and grounded forever was as strong as ever--but it did feel as though his situation had gotten a bit easier. Then he sighed.

"She ate my socks."

Barley let out an unexpected laugh. "Well, I'm not surprised! Dragons are capable of eating just about anything! And she probably hasn't eaten anything since at least yesterday. Your socks were probably her breakfast!" 

"Well, we've gotta find other things she can eat instead, then." Ian got to his feet and retrieved his notebook from his backpack, grimacing as he noticed the claw marks the dragon had left on the front cover. He flipped it open to the first blank page he found and began to make a list. 

_Get dragon food._

_Sneak dragon outside during the day._

_Come up with better hiding places._

_Find owner???_

"Does she have a name?" Barley's voice startled Ian from his concentration. 

"Huh?"

"I said, does she have a name?"

"Uh, no. I've been trying to come up with one because I felt weird just calling her 'dragon.'" Ian told Barley about most of the possible names he'd come up (though conveniently left out Spot--no need to give his brother ammunition to mock him). As Ian suspected, Barley looked skeptical. 

"You're focusing too much on what she _looks_ like, rather than what she _is."_

"What does that mean?" Ian asked, his brows furrowed.

"It means that yeah, she looks pretty and she's bright and colorful. But more than that...she's a _dragon._ A descendant of the ferocious, fiery beasts that would guard the most powerful of artifacts, who ranged from the wise to the wicked," Ian groaned as Barley's voice rose dramatically, like it always did when he started monologuing. "...creatures that breathed fire and _demanded the respect of all--"_

"Okay, _okay,_ I get it!" Ian quickly cut him off; Barley started to scratch the dragon's ears, sulking at having his inspirational speech interrupted. Right at that moment, though, the hatchling's eyes opened and she started sniffling. The brothers looked at her, puzzled...and then she sneezed, a small puff of fire escaping her mouth. 

Ian let out a shout of surprise as flames started to creep up the corner of his quilt, and Barley launched himself to his feet--the dragon falling from his lap and retreating back under the bed as he did so--and yanked the quilt off Ian's bed, swiftly throwing it onto the floor and stamping on the fire with his shoes until it went out. Ian placed a hand over his pounding heart, lamenting the smell of smoke that now hung in the air. Barley then gasped.

"Blaze!" he said triumphantly.

Ian cocked an eyebrow. "What?" he said dumbly.

"That's her name! Blaze!" 

"Barley, Blaze sounds like a boy's name, not a girl's."

"Nuh-uh! There have _totally_ been girls named Blaze!"

"Like _who?"_

"Trust me, they're there!"

Before Ian could tell him otherwise, the dragon returned. She looked at the quilt first, then the boys, and she did look rather guilty. "Blazey," Ian said.

"Huh?"

Ian shrugged sheepishly. "Blazey," he repeated. It felt right to him; the name felt like a good blend of the fierceness of her ancestors and the endearing creature that stood before them now.

Barley looked thoughtful, then he smiled and nodded. "Blazey." Blazey's tail started to wag; did she understand what was happening? Ian didn't know, but she seemed happy, so it made him happy, too.

It was a good moment, with a sense of companionship and unity in the air. A moment that passed when Blazey started to make hacking sounds, then threw up a small steaming pile of vomit. There was a beat of silence as Ian gaped. Then Barley said cheerfully, "Your socks are back!"

Ian's hand once again found his forehead. 

**Author's Note:**

> So as some of you may have guessed, I've never used this website from a writer's perspective before, so I'm still learning my way around the features, formats, etc. If anything in my stories look strange because of my unfamiliarity, I want to apologize with the hope that it doesn't detract from them in any way.


End file.
